


Too Late

by drippingwithsin



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 14:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14979500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drippingwithsin/pseuds/drippingwithsin
Summary: What if Miranda never found the courage to grasp what she truly wanted all along?





	Too Late

 

Miranda Priestly used to think she understood everything there is to know about pain. A burn, a cut, thirty-six hours of labor, three divorces, but nothing absolutely nothing compared to the sheer agony felt from witnessing the courtship between one Ms. Serena Bündchen and Andréa Sachs.

It was as if she was being crushed slowly from the inside out.  
 

Yet, there was little to be done to cease their torture so ever the masochist she watched from the shadows as the love meant for her alone budded and blossomed with another.

* * *

_Miranda strode toward the outer office at full force, paying no mind to the underlings who jumped and scurried out of her way. Even though it was barely noon, today was turning out to be a hellacious one. The meeting with Irv as perusal did not go well at all. Now all she wanted was a fresh cup of Starbucks and to bury herself in the mountain of papers cluttering her desk. Perhaps, call Andréa in for another needless once over. The thought made nude lips quirk naughtily. Sometimes it was good to be the queen._

_  
Today, however, was not that day._  
  
  
_No, today was the day the queen ultimately fall._

_When she reached the threshold something made Miranda freeze. Serena was there, but that's not what made her pause. No. It was the location and body language which made Miranda bristle. The Brazilan makeup artist stood directly in front of her second assistant's desk not speaking just staring at her.  
_

_**In that way.** _

" _Hi," A lightly accented greeted.  
_

_Chocolate eyes, liquid and doe-like, glanced from their place held onto by a computer screen to the person currently looming overhead and lit up like runway lights. A broad grin broke out across that gorgeous face. "Oh hey, Serena."_

" _What are you doing?"  
_

" _Oh nothing much; just finishing Miranda's schedule." Andréa replied idly, still smiling. And Miranda both loathed and loved the way her name sounded coming from that mouth.  
_

" _I-I um," The beautiful woman uncharacteristically stuttered out and nausea churned. Miranda knew, just knew, where this was heading. But like a train wreck, she couldn't look away. Couldn't even move. "was just wondering if maybe you'd go to dinner with me tonight."  
_

" _Sure, sounds great." Punctuated by yet another bright smile. Oh, how that smile brightened many a grey day._

_Miranda's stomach sank. Agony twisted her heart. Anger ignited in her very core. It was too much to bear. She stepped through finally making her presence known. "Do I not pay you two enough to actually do some work?"  
_

_A chorus of 'Sorry, Mirandas' and the Brazilian's hasty retreat brought absolutely no relief. If anything all it did was leave a deeply seeded dread of what was to be inevitable._ _A fleeting glance over to the other desk and Miranda found a pair of Alice blues mirroring her own agony. Seems she was not alone after all yet destined to forever be it.  
_

And just like one of those horrid clichéd romance novels their story began to unfold with the usual secret looks, warm smiles, and lingering touches.

_  
Sickening_

  
Akin to Medieval rat torture jealousy and bitterness gnawed viciously at Miranda's belly. Devouring all reasonable thought until only an aching heart was left behind. One shuddering beat followed closely by another. It demanded the flames of young love be extinguished whilst they were still kindlings lest she becomes disemboweled. So Miranda found herself unconsciously trying to separate the two; sending and taking her second assistant here and there like some sort of prized accessory.

  
But it was all for naught; for their love, new and virginal as it may be flourished amongst the winds of her icy storm. They giggled and frolicked about akin to two Fantasian fauns filling the normally droll office with gleeful laughter, squeals of delight and the older woman with hopelessness.

  
Oh, Andréa. If I was only brave enough. Strong enough to grasp ahold of what I truly want. But at last, I'm not. I'm weak. So damned weak.

  
Miranda had to painfully admit, however, that had this particular little love story starred any other couple it would have been a heartwarming tale, but as bronze fingers entwined with pale ones, plump lips brushed against another pair, and blonde mingled with rich brown it became one of pure tragedy. Of what ifs and could bes.

  
Now on the picturesque stretch of beach in Florida as she watched the blonde gracefully fall upon bended knee with a telltale box in hand in front of the only woman she ever come to love somewhere deep inside a piece of Miranda Priestly shattered and died.

  
She was too late.

 

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, darlings. Sometimes you just don't get the girl. The moral is though. Don't keep waiting around. Be brave. Tell them how you feel life is too short and they just might find somebody else. 
> 
> Oh yeah, there's a bit of an easter egg in there. Well, not an easter egg but one of the lines was inspired by a quote. I give you a hint- Oh, and wear something.... black.


End file.
